Christmas Eve
by bigbadwolfygirl
Summary: Dean promised you he would be home for Christmas this year, and he never lets you down. MD fic from the reader's POV.


It's Christmas Eve, and snow is falling lightly outside the bay window in the living room. You're sitting in the plush armchair, casually flipping through a Home and Garden magazine and pretending you aren't watching down the street. You've got your eye out of a very specific make and model, a black 1967 Chevy Impala. You know the sound of it by heart, and you listen for it over the sounds of Christmas music playing from the stereo. Dean Martin sings about chestnuts and open fires and you don't care at all. Your cell phone sits on the arm of the chair, where you can see it, but you tell yourself it's not really staring.

Dean promised he would be home for Christmas. He's been gone for three weeks, in Nevada hunting some beast or another with his brother. Although he checks in every night as best he can, you can't help but worry until he's safe at home again. Every time he goes on a hunt, he comes home with new cuts and bruises. Of course he says he's fine, and Sam always stitches shut any major wounds or pops back any out of place joints. But you can't help worrying that something major will happen to the both of them.

What seems like a lifetime later, you hear the familiar rumble. Tossing your magazine into the basket next to the chair, you pull the curtains back from the window, a big grin spreading across your face. You watch as Dean swings the Impala into the driveway and both boys climb out. You run to the front door and fling it wide as Dean bounds up the steps and grabs you up in a huge hug, spinning you around in the front hall. You laugh as he sets you down, and then kisses you deep, both hands caressing your face. His thumbs brush the happy tears from your cheeks and he beams at you.

"Hi-ya, baby." Your favorite words in the world roll off his tongue like honey. You see he has tears in his eyes too, which he quickly wipes away on the back of his hand as Sam ambles up the steps behind him.

"Hey sis," he says, stepping around his brother to wrap his lanky arms around you, planting a kiss on the top of our head.

"Hi, Sam. Are you gonna stick around for dinner tonight?" you ask, knowing full well his answer.

"No, I've got to go pick up Claire. We're having dinner at her folks place tonight. But we'll be over in the morning, for sure." He gives you another quick hug, claps his brother on the shoulder, then hops down the stairs and heads for his own car, parked further up the driveway. He waves as he flops into the driver's seat and starts the engine, and then slowly backs out of the driveway, careful to avoid Dean's Baby.

As soon as his car clears Baby's bumper Dean wraps his arms around you again, lifting you in a hug and carrying you backwards over the threshold. He kicks the door shut behind him as he sets you down and cups your face in his hands. His lips press against yours in a sweet fury of emotion, his rough hands settling on the back of your neck as he holds you against him.

"Missed... you… so… much…" he whispers between kisses planted all over your face. You giggle as he kisses the end of your nose. Before you can respond he's kissing you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. He slides his hands to the backs of your thighs and lifts you so you wrap your legs around him. Dean carries you over to the couch and then sinks back on the cushions, settling you on his lap, never breaking his barrage of kisses. You run your hands up his firm chest, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt ripple as his hands run through your hair. You smile as your feel his arousal pressing against your thigh.

"Maybe we should head upstairs?" You suggest, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He laughs, and twirls a lock of your hair between his fingers.

"I think right here is just fine, baby."

You run your fingers across Dean's chest, tracing patterns and swirls against his skin and around his nipples, in perfect rhythm with his fingers in your hair. Your cheek is pressed against his bare shoulder, skin sticking to his, but you're too spent to care. Both of you are breathing heavy, lying naked on the living room floor. He sighs underneath you, and you smile.

"Mmmm baby, Merry Christmas to me," Dean breathes, rubbing his hands down your back to caress your ass. You laugh as he pinches your behind.

"I'm so happy you're home," you say, lifting your head to rest your chin on his chest. He smiles down at you, his green eyes sparkling in the lights from the Christmas tree.

"Me too," he says, then lifts his head to kiss your forehead. "I got you something."

You lift off of him and twist into a sitting position against the couch, pulling your knees up and wrapping your arms around your legs. He gets up from the floor and crosses to the armchair where he flung his jacket. Digging into the inside pocket he pulls out a small velvet box.

"But Christmas isn't until tomorrow!" you admonish as he comes to sit next to you. He just laughs, handing you the box.

You peel open the lid to reveal a snowflake sparkling against blue velvet. The platinum gleam is set off by a bright blue sapphire settled in the center of the flake. The lights of the tree glint off the surface, making the snowflake look as if it were falling through a night sky.

"It's beautiful, Dean."

"Almost as beautiful as you, babe," Dean says, leaning in to kiss you, his hands caressing your cheeks. He takes the box from your hands and gently lifts the snowflake, the long chain sliding easily from behind the velvet.

Gesturing for you to turn around, Dean unclips the clasp and reaches around to settle the necklace around your neck. His fingers gently lift the hair from the back of your neck as the necklace falls into place. You glance down at the sparkling pendant where it sits just above your cleavage. Tears spring from your eyes as you turn to Dean.

"Thank you so much, Dean. I love it. And I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
